


As Old and As True As The Sky

by imaginary_golux



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Culture Shock, Explicit Consent, F/M, Iskryne-style psychic wolves, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Psychic Wolves, mention of off-screen animal harm, wolf-specific consent issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-09 20:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8911006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: In which Finn knows the true name of his heart, Rey wants a pack more than anything in the world, and Poe has found the only wolf who will put up with being crammed into an X-Wing cockpit.Also, there are psychic wolves.Beta by my ever-wonderful Best Beloved, Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw.





	1. Chapter 1

FN-2187’s wolf is as black as his undersuit, a huge hulking creature larger than even Captain Phasma’s companion - not taller, but _solid_ , nothing but muscle and hard bone under space-black fur. The ‘troopers are not supposed to give their wolves names, of course - the wolves have designations, just like the ‘troopers, and are subject to the same discipline - but FN-2187, in his first and only act of rebellion (before the pivotal moment, before _everything_ changes) calls his wolf, silently and only in their minds, _Brother_. Brother is the scent of bruised green leaves and blaster fire, and he is one of the finest wolves in the ranks, enormous and disciplined and _smart_.

He thinks of FN-2187 as the scent of the air after rain, and FN-2187 takes a few moments of precious spare time, once, when he could be sleeping or cleaning his equipment or putting in extra time on the range, to look and see whether there’s a word for that in a human tongue. There is: Petrichor. FN-2187 tucks that word away in his memory, keeps it safe. It’s the only thing he has that even begins to resemble a name.

FN-2187 and Brother are the fast and strong and clever, obedient and disciplined and accurate. But if they have a flaw, it is that they cannot quite bring themselves to stop thinking of their companions, human and wolf alike, as being pack. And Stormtroopers are not supposed to care about pack, are not supposed to be able to sense it or to listen to it if they can. So FN-2187 _tries_ not to listen to the pack-sense, to see the connections between himself and the other ‘troopers, to care that they are _pack_ and must be protected - but he fails. He always fails.

*

Rey’s wolf was the runt of his litter, a tiny scrawny creature with his eyes still baby-blue when she found him tossed out in the sand to die. She took him home with her and worked herself to exhaustion to keep him fed, gave him half of her own too-small portions when he still whined with hunger, worked herself to skin and bones, until nothing kept her moving but sheer indomitable will -

And he lived. He grew, and grew, and grew, and now he is as tall at the shoulder as _she_ is, a great rangy beast with sand-colored fur, feral-looking and ferocious. He catches food for both of them, now, ranging far over the desert sands and returning proudly with his prey dangling from his jaws. He is the largest wolf anyone in Niima has ever seen, and that combined with the fact that Rey named him Khamsin for his scent - sandstorm, bitter wind, death approaching - well, people don’t bother Rey much anymore. Not with Khamsin enormous and snarling beside her.

He calls her _desert spring_ , the scent of water among rocks and sand, and Rey loves him with all the adoration in her battered heart. They fight together, hunt together, sleep huddled in a pile of fur and tattered cloth together, and Rey fears nothing in the galaxy so long as Khamsin stands beside her.

But she would like a pack. Khamsin knows, in the deep memory of wolves, what a pack should feel like, and Rey wants what he shows her, wants the pack-sense and the fierce affection of other wolves. Someday, she is sure, her parents will return, and then she will have a pack, she and Khamsin both, and they will be content.

*

Poe’s wolf is - well, if a wolf that’s four feet tall at the shoulder can be considered _delicate_ , then that’s what she is. She’s a beautiful brindle with laughing green eyes, a flirt and a charmer, with a scent-name that reminds Poe of nothing so much as Yavin 4: sun-warmed stone and greenery. He adores her, for all that having a wolf-bitch is sometimes less amusing than one might like; but they’ve come a long way since the bad old days of open heats and vicious infighting, and these days Poe just lets Cora choose whichever wolf she wants to see her through, and he and that wolf’s brother - or sometimes sister - find a heat-room together. Even if the other wolf’s sibling _has_ a lover already, everyone on a military base understands that it’s not cheating if it’s a heat pairing. The wolf chooses, and her sibling follows; that’s the way of the world.

And in between times, Poe and his sister are an unstoppable pairing. Cora is fast, faster than any other wolf Poe’s ever met, and her delicate build means that people underestimate her, as Poe’s pretty face tends to convince people he’s more malleable than he is. They make a good infiltration team. And Cora’s dominant enough that she can keep the pilots’ pack-within-a-pack together, bind them all into a pocket in the pack-sense, though she’s no queen-wolf to rule the entire pack with an iron paw. She even likes flying, which is very unusual, and Poe’s Black One has a special modification to the cockpit so that Cora can fly with him, instead of remaining on base, whining on the tarmac with the flight-averse wolves.

So it’s no surprise that General Organa picks Poe and his wolfsister for the most important mission she has available.

*

Poe sends Cora with BB-8. _Guard the map, guard my droid,_ he tells her, and Cora whines and sends him _fear-anxiety-anguish_ but she goes, herding BB-8 off into the desert at a fast trot, and Poe takes up his blaster and goes to war. There’s a decent chance that he’s going to die, but maybe Cora will be far enough away by then that the blow will be less painful. BB-8 will look after her, in any case, her and the map both, and Poe would only slow them down. _Go, beloved_ , he thinks at the warmth in the back of his mind that is his wolf, and then tries not to think about it anymore as he shoots and shoots again, taking out a Stormtrooper and the Stormtrooper’s gangly wolfbrother and wincing as he does so. It always feels so _wrong_ to kill the wolves, but if he doesn’t, well, they’ll kill _him_. This is war, after all.

He’s immensely glad he sent Cora away when he’s captured, dragged forward between faceless Stormtroopers and their snarling wolves to be shoved to his knees in front of Kylo Ren himself. It’s said, among the fighters of the Resistance, that Kylo Ren killed his own wolf when he went Dark, since no wolf can bear the touch of the Dark Side. It’s said that Kylo Ren can reach into a man’s mind and tear his soul out. It’s said he was once Leia Organa’s son.

At least one of those rumors is probably true.

*

Kylo Ren takes his time wandering through Poe’s mind, pulling out memories and gloating over them, and when he finds the memory of Poe sending BB-8 and Cora away, he _laughs_ , and it’s the worst sound Poe has ever heard.

“Trusted your wolf with the map, did you?” Kylo Ren gloats. “Well. Perhaps I’ll keep you alive long enough to feel it when I catch her and skin her. She’ll make a _lovely_ rug on my bedroom floor.”

Poe weeps with pain and fear and rage, and tries so hard to throw the Darksider out of his head, so hard, flailing against the pressure in his mind that’s _nothing_ like the pack-bond, and nothing works, until at last the agony wipes all conscious thought from his mind.

*

There’s no blood on Brother’s teeth when they return to the ship, and FN-2187’s blaster has not been fired. FN-2187 _knows_ that this is bad, that he is almost certainly going to be reconditioned or worse, that if Brother cannot prove he is fit for war they will kill him and then they will kill FN-2187 if he cannot bond again - there is no place among the Stormtroopers for a wolfless man - but he couldn’t do it. The people of the village were trying so hard to save each other, had done nothing to attack the First Order that FN-2187 can see - neither he nor Brother could bear to slay the innocent.

Brother leans against his side as FN-2187 pants in fear and horror, sending warmth and affection through their bond, and when Phasma orders them to report for judgement, FN-2187 suddenly knows what he must do. It’s going to be just shy of _impossible_ , but it’s the only chance he and Brother have.

“Kylo Ren wants the prisoner,” he tells the guards in the interrogation room, Brother bristling beside him, and takes the Resistance pilot out of the terrible chair and away.

The pilot smells like wolf, so Brother informs FN-2187, and FN-2187 can’t help wondering how that can be, since there was no wolf found when the pilot was captured - unless the man’s wolf was killed in the skirmish. But the pilot does not smell like grief, which he _would_ if his wolf was gone, so - it’s a mystery FN-2187 doesn’t have time to worry about right now. It’s enough to know that the pilot can fly a TIE fighter. FN-2187 can worry about the pilot’s wolf at some later date, when he has time.

FN-2187 and Brother are _both_ ecstatic when the pilot - Poe Dameron - gives FN-2187 an actual _name_. It’s not Petrichor, not the scent-name of his heart, but it’s a good name, a strong name. Finn.

“I have to go back to Jakku!” Poe tells them, as Brother tries to cram himself more tightly under Finn’s legs, and Finn concentrates on shooting the incoming missiles out of the sky. “My droid is there - and my wolf!”

“Kriff,” says Finn, but he doesn’t argue, because if that was Brother lost on Jakku, well, he’d be heading back too. A droid is one thing; droids can be replaced. But a wolf - “Alright, then, take us down!”

Finn would rather not think about the crash.

*

Rey isn’t sure what she’s expecting when she follows the anxious beeping and equally-anxious snarling over the dunes, but a wolf trying to free a droid from a Teedo’s net is _definitely_ not it. Khamsin snarls the Teedo into submission while Rey frees the little droid, though, because one wolf helps another, when they can.

The wolf’s name is _warm-stone-and-green_ (Rey didn’t even know green _had_ a scent, but that’s definitely what it is), and she is looking for her brother, _engine-oil-and-leather_. The droid has something her brother needs.

It would be smarter for Rey not to get involved. You have to look out for yourself, in the desert, and she has no further obligation to _warm-stone-and-green_ or to the droid that calls itself BB-8. But Khamsin _likes_ _warm-stone-and-green_ , likes her a lot, and so Rey invites wolf-bitch and droid back to her makeshift home and shares her bed that night with _two_ enormous furry forms. And in the morning, she brings the wolf and the droid into town to see if their human has shown up yet. There’s nowhere else on Jakku to go, after all; if _engine-oil-and-leather_ is going to be anywhere, it’ll be Niima.

 _Engine-oil-and-leather_ is _not_ in Niima Outpost, but something about the little orange-and-white droid is apparently valuable enough that some of Unkar Plutt’s thugs are willing to dare Rey’s wrath to try to steal it. Rey and Khamsin and _warm-stone-and-green_ are deeply, violently unamused.

*

A black wolf in the middle of a desert is _not_ a happy wolf, and Brother does his best to stay in Finn’s shadow as Finn tries to shield them both from the blazing sun with the battered leather jacket that is all he has left of Poe Dameron. They’re both miserable and overheated and so thirsty it hurts by the time they stumble over the last dune and spot Niima Outpost down below.

Finn doesn’t know what the enormous creature drinking from the water trough is, but it ignores him and Brother magnificently, so he doesn’t much care. The water is warm and foul, far less appetizing even than the tasteless protein drinks of the First Order, but it’s the best thing Finn has ever drunk - his first drink as a free man, and the assurance that he and Brother will not die here.

Brother hears the altercation first, raises his head from the trough and turns interestedly towards the snarls, and then perks his ears. Finn turns to look. There’s a young woman and two wolves - one positively _enormous_ , taller than Brother, and the other almost dainty - fighting a handful of thugs for possession of a droid.

An orange and white droid.

 _We have to help_ , Finn tells Brother, and starts towards the fight, but it is over before he can go more than a few steps. The young woman knocks two of the thugs down with a quarterstaff, hitting hard enough that Finn can hear the bones crack from _here_ , and the enormous sand-colored wolf pulls down another pair, blood stark on its tawny fur, while the dainty wolf calmly crushes the last thug’s ankle in her jaws. Finn stumbles to a halt.

The dainty wolf looks up, attention caught by some small sound, and sees Finn. Her ears go back. Beside her, the droid warbles what sounds like a battle cry and whirs right towards Finn, who backs up fast. _Run_ , he tells Brother, and turns to flee, not sure where he’s going other than _away_ \- but before he’s gone more than a few steps he runs headfirst into the young woman’s quarterstaff, which sweeps him neatly off his feet and drops him in front of the brindled wolf-bitch and the droid. Both of them snarl, and the droid produces a sparking protrusion that can only be a weapon.

“They say that’s their human’s jacket,” the woman informs Finn. The enormous sand-colored wolf and Brother are facing each other, both hunched down and snarling. “How did you come by it?”

Finn gulps. “He - died,” he says sadly. “We crashed. I got him out of the _Finalizer_ , but we crashed. The jacket was all I could find.” He looks the brindled wolf in the eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he tells her. “He was - kriff, he was _magnificent_. We took out half the _Finalizer’s_ weaponry before they shot us down.”

The sand-colored wolf stops snarling, and Brother sits back on his haunches, apparently content to let the humans talk this out. The young woman shares a long look with the sand-colored wolf.

“Khamsin says that _she_ says her brother’s not dead,” the woman says at last, gesturing to the brindled wolf-bitch.

“Really?” Finn gasps, scrambling to his knees. “He’s not? Then - we’ve got to go find him - can you lead us there?” he asks the brindled wolf, who huffs like she’s offended that he even has to ask, and gives him a very human-like nod.

All further planning, unfortunately, is interrupted by the arrival of a squad of Stormtroopers, and Finn is a little distracted by having to run for his life.

They steal the ship that the young woman said was garbage, manage to lose or destroy the pursuing TIE fighters and send the ship rocketing away from Jakku, and Finn winces as he hears the brindled wolf-bitch whining miserably as they get farther and farther away from her human. Her brother? Is that how people who aren’t Stormtroopers refer to the relationship between wolf and human?

*

“I’m Finn,” Rey’s unlikely companion tells her, once they’re well away from Jakku. His wolf huffs a greeting and offers their scent names: Finn the scent that comes after rain, his wolfbrother bruised leaves and blaster fire. They’re good smells.

“Rey,” Rey says, clasping Finn’s hand briefly. Khamsin offers his own name, bitter wind before a sandstorm, and Rey’s own desert spring. “This is Khamsin. The droid says its name is BB-8 and _her_ name is Cora.” Cora’s scent-name is warm stone and greenery, and Finn likes it a lot. “And you said engine-oil-and-leather’s name was Poe?”

“Poe Dameron,” Finn agrees, nodding. “He’s still alive?” he checks with Cora, who wags her tail once and gives him a look that suggests he should stop asking silly questions.

“And I need to get back to Jakku,” Rey adds grimly. Finn blinks at her, and is clearly about to ask why she would want to return to such a desolate place, when _something_ goes horribly wrong with the ship.

*

There’s no way they can hide three wolves, one droid, and two humans in the under-deck panel, so Finn and Rey and their companions wait in the corridor, all bristling with anxiety and aggression, as the ship’s door opens. Finn’s ready to fight, ready to die before he goes back to the First Order, but the man who comes in is not a First Order officer or a Stormtrooper. He and Brother are both very surprised. Brother is even more surprised by the Wookiee - he’s never smelled anyone like that before.

But more astonishing than either the legendary Rebellion general Han Solo or his Wookiee companion is the fact that Finn can feel the surprise and delight echoing from Khamsin and Cora, and from Rey through Khamsin. There’s a pack-bond starting to form between them, weak as yet but _there_ , a bond like the one Finn’s always wanted with his comrades and never had. And now he _has_ it, with fierce Rey and feral Khamsin and dainty Cora and even - maybe - with Poe Dameron.

 _Pack_ , he says to Brother, and Brother agrees, _Pack_. It’s the best feeling in the galaxy.


	2. Chapter 2

“We need to get back to Jakku,” Rey tells Maz. “I need - I need to be there. And Cora’s brother is there, we think. We need to get back. Can’t you send the droid to the Resistance?”

“Perhaps,” Maz allows. Finn gets up from the table, restless and worried - there are so many people in the Cantina, any of them could be a spy for the First Order - and goes wandering out the front door with Brother. He’s not used to that level of noise and fuss. Rey comes out after him a few minutes later.

“Han’s negotiating with her,” she says shortly. “You - you will come back with me?”

“You’re pack,” Finn says, and Brother leans against his side and sends _water-and-hot-sand_ at both of them, an embrace in the way of wolves. Rey grins down at him, and Khamsin play-bows, inviting Brother into a friendly tussle.

“Then I’ll tell Han and Maz,” Rey says, and goes back into the Cantina, leaving Finn to sit on the front steps and watch their wolves play. Cora is still inside, curled around BB-8 protectively - and how does Finn know that? he wonders abruptly, and realizes just as abruptly that it’s the pack-sense, that Cora knows where she is and so Brother knows and so Finn knows.

Finn leans back against sun-warmed stone and closes his eyes and basks in the pack-sense.

Which is how he feels Rey scream.

*

He’s on his feet in an instant, looking around wildly for what scared her - Cora, who is with her, sends a confused impression of a strange smell and nothing more - and instead of Rey he sees the TIE fighters screaming in to fire. He and Brother and Khamsin manage to scramble under cover, and Finn bites his lip to stay silent as he sees the transports come in to land, each holding far too many Stormtroopers. He needs to get to Rey - but she is quiet in the pack-sense now, and he gets the impression that she and Cora and BB-8 are running, running hard.

Behind him, Maz and Han and Chewbacca emerge from the Cantina. Maz slaps something into Finn’s hand. “Here,” she snaps, and Finn looks down to see something like a blaster hilt gone wrong - and then he realizes.

“This is a _lightsaber_ ,” he says.

“Your pack-sister is taking the map to safety,” Maz replies. “We need to give her time.”

Finn gulps and glances down at the two enormous wolves beside him. Khamsin is _quivering_ with the need to go to Rey, but -

“Yes, ma’am,” Finn says, and thumbs the Jedi weapon on.

*

The fight is a blur of misery and blood, and Finn hates bitterly the fact that he is fighting those who should have been his pack-brothers, that Brother’s jaws are stained with ‘trooper blood, but he fights, Khamsin and Brother raging beside him, until -

No. No. It cannot be.

*

Rey runs until she can’t, and then she sends Cora and BB-8 on ahead of her and turns back to buy them time. There’s someone following her, she can _sense_ it, with something that isn’t the pack-sense but that thrums through her just as powerfully, something that woke when she picked up the lightsaber hilt and saw the terrible visions it showed her.

Rey wants, desperately, to have Khamsin beside her, but Khamsin is fighting, blood in his mouth and the bodies of his kills strewn about him. She can feel him through her bond, and through him Finn and Finn’s nameless wolfbrother, _bruised-leaves-and-blaster-fire_ , and knows that they cannot come to aid her. And Cora is fleeing, as Rey told her to, sending sorrow and affection through the pack-bond as she runs.

Rey turns at bay to face her enemy.

*

Finn has never felt anything so terrible as the sudden _emptiness_ in the pack-sense as Rey falls. She’s not dead - Khamsin would know if she was dead - but she is _gone_ , taken from their knowledge. Finn knows despair, then, and it grows worse as he sees Kylo Ren emerging from the forest with Rey in his arms. Finn and Khamsin and Brother forge across the battlefield towards them, snarling their rage and fear, but Kylo Ren is gone before they can reach him, Rey his captive. Khamsin howls his fury to the battlefield, a horrible sound that echoes from the ruins of the Cantina until the whole world fills with it.

The X-Wings appear as though Khamsin’s howl summoned them, streaking low over the lake, and Finn finds his eyes drawn to the lead X-Wing, which flips and dances its way through the sky. Something about its movements seems - familiar somehow, though of course there’s no way Finn could have seen it before. The Stormtroopers retreat before the onslaught of the Resistance, but Finn knows they have not been defeated. They have _Rey_. That means they’ve _won_.

It means Finn has to get her back.

*

Finn follows Cora and BB-8 across the landing field of the Resistance base, Brother and Khamsin on his heels. The brindle wolf and the droid are clearly looking for someone, and then they see him - see the all-black X-Wing that caught Finn’s eye even during battle - and go hurtling across the tarmac, Cora running flat-out. Finn and the dog-wolves follow her as quickly as they can, to see a figure in an orange flight suit drop out of the X-Wing and fling its arms around Cora’s neck. Cora knocks the person to the ground and licks his face exuberantly as BB-8 whirls in circles, beeping at the top of its speakers; Finn stumbles to a halt beside the pile of wolf and pilot and falls to his knees.

“Poe,” he says. “Poe Dameron.”

Poe gapes up at him. “ _Finn_ ,” he says, astonished, and struggles to his knees, Cora still half-curled around him like she can’t bear to let him go, and flings his arms around Finn. Finn hugs back as hard as he can.

“We knew you weren’t dead, but we thought you were still on _Jakku_ , we were going to come back for you, how did you get here, kriff, you’re _alive_ ,” Finn babbles.

Poe hugs him harder. “You _did_ it,” he says, sounding half-drunk with glee. “You did it, you got BB-8 and Cora, you completed my mission - you wonderful man - wait. We?”

*

Poe has never been so happy to see anyone in his life as he is to see Cora, alive and well and _here_ , galloping across the tarmac to him. She slams into him hard enough to leave bruises, overwhelming him with _engine-oil-and-leather_ and joy. BB-8 is caroling glee beside them, and in a moment Poe will hug his droid, too, but right now there’s a hundred-plus pounds of wolf on his chest, and _Cora, Cora, my heart, thank the Force you’re safe_.

And then _Finn_ is there too, with his enormous hulking black wolfbrother and _another_ wolf, an even larger one that looks like it might actually be feral, and Poe manages to get to his knees to hug his friend and is blankly astonished, as Finn clings to him, to realize that there is a pack-bond between them.

 _Cora?_ Poe asks, and Cora replies with a burst of _scent-of-rain_ followed by _bruised-leaves-and-blaster-fire_ , which is Finn’s wolfbrother, and then _bitter-wind-before-sandstorm_ , which is the enormous feral wolf, and then _water-in-the-desert_. Poe blinks. Who is _water-in-the-desert_?

“Rey - my friend Rey - she saved Cora and BB-8 and then we were attacked by Stormtroopers and had to leave Jakku, I’m so sorry, and then we got to Takodana and she was taken by Kylo Ren and _we have to get her back_ ,” Finn babbles when Poe asks.

And yes, there in the new pack-bond is an empty place where _water-in-the-desert_ \- Rey - ought to be. Poe hauls himself to his feet and helps Finn up, nods politely to both dog-wolves. “Alright,” he says. “If we have to get her back, then let’s go do that thing.”

*

Rey knows Khamsin is still alive, can feel him through their bond when she wakes - he’s half-frantic with worry, but he’s alive and safe, and through him she can feel Finn and Finn’s wolfbrother and Cora and Cora’s brother, _engine-oil-and-leather_ , Poe Dameron whom she’s never met - so he’s safe, then. They’re all safe but her.

And _she_ is strapped to a chair with a masked madman staring at her. Shit.

She snarls defiance at her captor, feral as Khamsin at his worst, and when he tries to go trawling through her mind she reaches down into that new sense, the not-pack-sense that woke with the lightsaber, and pushes back, fierce and furious, until she sees the fear and horror in her captor’s mind, sees the moment he Fell, the moment he -

Rey recoils, gagging, and the Darksider flings himself out of the room in what he will never admit is fear. Rey reaches out through the pack-sense to cling to the warmth of Khamsin’s affection. She still has her wolf. That didn’t happen to _her_ , she didn’t do it, she would _never_ do that.

And she needs to get the kriff out of here, because she will not stay another moment in the power of a man who _could_ betray his wolfbond so. They’re coming, her wolfbrother and her pack; she just needs to get out. They’re coming to get her. Her _pack_ is coming.

*

Finn knows Rey’s alive, and terrified, and furious. That’s clear as a bell, ringing through the pack-sense. But he doesn’t know _where_ , and he doesn’t know how to drop Starkiller’s shields, and they’re all going to die if he can’t get this right. He just found his pack - he can’t lose them this soon. He can’t let his pack down.

Phasma’s presence is a gift from the Force. Brother takes her wolf down fast and hard, holds him down until the nameless wolf shows his belly and whines, and Phasma, with Brother’s jaws at her wolf’s throat, drops the shields. Finn feels Poe and Cora come streaking in with the other X-Wings, feels their determination and the rush of flight through the pack-sense, and grins to himself. His pack may be small as yet, but they are _fierce_.

And then, as Finn tries desperately to come up with some sort of plan that will let them find Rey before the entire planet explodes - miracle.

 _Rey_.

Finn clings to her like she _is_ water in the desert, priceless and peerless. She’s furious and terrified and grateful, and their wolves radiate joy through the pack-bond until even Cora, in Poe’s X-Wing, yips in glee.

 _Good_ , says Poe, and Rey and Finn both jump. Finn had no _idea_ you could speak through the pack-bond, though admittedly it’s not so much a word as a feeling. _Get out,_ Poe adds, worry-pleasure-gratitude underlying the thought. Finn and Rey do their best to obey.

*

Finn is so worried about Poe, who he can _feel_ getting ready to do something stupidly dangerous - and how does Finn know what that feels like, anyhow? - that he almost doesn’t see Kylo Ren in time. But Brother does, and his wolf’s growl of fury wakes Finn out of the pack-bond daze in a hurry.

Kylo Ren is injured, and there are two angry humans and two _furious_ wolves facing him. It should be easy for them to strike him down. But Kylo Ren has the Force. He waves a hand and sends Brother and Khamsin flying when they charge him, both wolves yelping in fear; Finn cries out in shock and pain as his wolf slams into a tree and slides down to lie limply at its foot. Brother is not dead - not even seriously injured - but Khamsin has a broken leg and both wolves are dazed by the harsh impact. Rey runs to Khamsin’s side, and that leaves Finn to stand between Kylo Ren and his _pack_ -

Finn raises the lightsaber and snarls. This monster will not do his new pack harm.

*

Rey screams her rage when Finn falls - her rage, and Finn’s wolfbrother’s, and Khamsin’s, and Poe’s, and Cora’s. She takes up the lightsaber and goes for her enemy with fire in her eyes and blood on her teeth; but blind rage makes for bad technique, and Kylo Ren beats her back, and back again, until she stands at the edge of a cliff and snarls her fury up into his face and knows he is her death -

And Khamsin sends her an image, clear as Jakku sunshine: the eye of the sandstorm, still and clear while all around is death and destruction. Rey takes a deep breath, and another. She wraps herself in Khamsin’s love, in _bitter-wind-before-a-storm_ , in the calm which is the center of the sandstorm, and opens her eyes and knows that she is strong.

She sends her enemy reeling with a move she did not know she knew. She beats him back, and back again, sends his blood hissing onto the pristine snow, and wherever he is she is there first, she is the eye of the storm, she is the peace in the center of destruction, she is a wellspring of power in the middle of the desert.

She is victorious.

*

Poe meets Rey for the first time as they stand in the medbay, watching Doctor Kalonia pour bacta over their packmate where he lies so still upon the bed. Rey’s Khamsin has had his leg splinted, which annoys him only a little, and he and Cora and Finn’s brother are all licking each other’s ears while Poe and Rey stand shoulder-to-shoulder and BB-8 whirls around them.

“So,” says Poe after a while. “Nice to meet you, pack-sister.”

“Likewise, pack-brother,” Rey says, and he can feel her in the pack-bond, strong and fierce and wild. “I’ve never had a pack before,” she admits after a moment. “I’m not quite sure how it works.”

“It’s not that hard,” Poe says, turning to face her and holding out a hand. She clasps it. “I think you’ve got the basics down already. We just...look out for each other, that’s all.”

Rey nods, and Poe can feel their wolves’ approval in the bond. “I can do that,” she says.

“Of that,” Poe says, grinning, “I am absolutely sure.”


	3. Chapter 3

There’s a bit of a breathing space after Starkiller’s destruction. Rey goes off to find Luke Skywalker, and Finn is put into a medically-induced coma for a few days while his back heals (three millimeters to the right and he’d be dead, Doctor Kalonia tells Poe, who swears long and fervently), and Poe finds himself wandering around the base with Cora and Finn’s brother at his heels. Finn’s brother is _enormous_ , a shaggy black wolf the size of a kriffing _pony_ , and he _looks_ like a nightmare, like he’d as soon eat you as look at you -

And he adores belly-rubs. He will lie there on the floor and let anyone who wants to rub his belly for _hours_. He’s basically fluff and love given lupine form. Poe thinks that’s sort of appropriate, all things considered. After all, _Finn_ was a Stormtrooper, and _he’s_ basically fluff and love given _human_ form. Like human, like wolf. (Poe’s going to ignore the fact that Cora is an incorrigible flirt, thank you very much.)

No one knows what Finn’s brother’s spoken name is, and _bruised-leaves-and-blaster-fire_ is a little long for everyday use, so by the unpredictable alchemy of nicknames, the enormous black wolf ends up being called ‘Leafy’ by pretty much everyone before the first day is out. He answers to it easily enough. He’s _smart_ , is Leafy, and it’s a good thing he’s friendly, because Poe’s reasonably sure he _could_ be dominant over any other dog-wolf in the Resistance except perhaps Rey’s half-feral Khamsin, who managed in his few hours on base to intimidate every other dog-wolf and most of the wolf-bitches entirely. Only General Organa’s queen-wolf, proud Aldera, didn’t seem terribly impressed - but then, Aldera’s never impressed by much of anything. She gives the constant impression of being mildly amused by everything around her, as though all the antics of the Resistance and the Senate are the squabblings of puppies. It’s a little disconcerting, honestly. But she holds the pack together so strongly that when Poe’s in battle, he can feel every other member of the Resistance pack as though they’re at his shoulder, and they move like the fingers of a single hand; so yeah, having the most powerful queen-wolf in a thousand years on their side is pretty useful, even if she _does_ think they’re all puppies.

Leafy can’t tell them much; he’s unused to the pack-bond, and when he speaks to Cora it’s in scent-images and nothing more. So Poe and the intelligence officers are waiting eagerly for Finn to wake up and tell them _everything_ he knows about the First Order. But in the meantime, Poe is trying to get used to his new, tiny, fierce little pack.

He’s used to being part of a large pack: he was in the Republic’s military, after all, which like all militaries (except the First Order’s, if what he’s getting from Leafy is correct) is held together by its queen-wolves, and now he’s part of the Resistance and of Aldera’s pack. And he’s used to having a smaller pack-within-a-pack, because Cora has always held his pilots together, whether in the Republic or the Resistance, and Poe can reach out through his wolfsister and feel all the pilots of his squadron as easily as touching his own fingers together. (There are a lot of grieving wolves in the days after Starkiller, the ones whose siblings did not come back from war. Poe spends as much time as he can with them, trying hard to send soothing thoughts through the pack-sense, petting their ears and burying his face in their fur and weeping, because wolves cannot weep.)

But now there is this very small pack, three humans and three wolves, and they are bound so tightly together it’s sort of astonishing, given how short a time they’ve known each other. If Poe so much as _thinks_ about Rey, he can see through her eyes the island in the middle of a wide dark sea, the legendary lost Jedi who still refuses to teach her. And if he thinks about _Finn_ , which he does often, he gets a confused impression of darkness filled with swirling colors and song, which Rey thinks is the Force. It’s a _much_ tighter bond than Poe has ever had with anyone before.

But it’s nice, too, having these bright beautiful people and their enormous devoted wolves as part of his tiny pack. Poe kind of likes it. _Cora_ likes it, too, mostly because Khamsin and Leafy both dote on her. Leafy keeps bringing her presents, which is honestly kind of adorable, and Khamsin sends warm affection through the bond every time Poe or Cora thinks of him. So Poe’s not going to complain about having basically been co-opted into a pack. As far as side-effects of having a wolfsister go, this one’s pretty kriffing nice.

*

Rey isn’t used to having a pack, and it surprises her at odd moments. She’ll close her eyes before sleep and find that Cora and Leafy - and what sort of name is that for a wolf? - are playing, and that they’re sending her their joy. She’ll relax in the cockpit of the _Falcon_ and find that Poe is watching through her eyes and thrilling at the opportunity to see the legendary ship in flight. She’ll dream and find she’s walking through Finn’s dreams, which are full of the song of the Force. _She_ doesn’t hear the Force as a song - she sees it as a sandstorm, and herself as its eye - but Finn does, and when she walks through his dreams, she gets to hear the stunningly beautiful music that the Force sings to him.

It’s jarring, but she _loves_ it. She and Khamsin have a pack at last, and if it’s small, well, that’s no matter. It’s _theirs_. Their Poe, their Finn, their Cora, their Leafy, theirs to love and protect and play with and delight in. Pack, at last.

They’re not the family she may never find, but - they’re _better_. Her family left her, but her _pack_ came back for her, through fire and blood. So she and Khamsin will go through fire and blood for them.

...Or go to the ends of the galaxy, as they are now. Rey isn’t sure _what_ to make of Luke Skywalker, when she finds him. He radiates age and weariness and bone-deep despair, and his ancient wolf does not move from its sprawl in the morning sunlight even when Khamsin goes over to sniff it. Skywalker certainly doesn’t _seem_ like the last hope of the Resistance. General Leia, now, she and her queen-wolf Aldera, _they_ were impressive. Skywalker is just...old, and sad, and weary.

But if General Leia wants him, if he can teach Rey how to use the Force (better than her dreams are doing, at any rate, for she walks in Finn’s dreams and listens to the Force sing and learns its secrets and its ways), then Rey will bring him home, however long it takes.

*

Finn wakes up before Rey gets home, but he’s not worried. He remembers her walking through his dreams, remembers the way the Force sang to them both; and as soon as he wakes, she’s there in the pack-sense, she and Khamsin, far away but still _there_ , on an island somewhere, frustrated but safe. And Poe and Cora are in the pack-sense too, much closer, radiating joy and excitement now that he has woken.

And Brother is there, of course. In point of fact, Brother is lying on _top_ of Finn, like a particularly heavy blanket. Finn buries his hands in his wolf’s ruff and hugs Brother hard. Brother is well-fed and sleek and happy, and his memories are full of warm meat and playing with Cora and romping through the forest outside the base and being petted by so many people it makes Finn dizzy, and running through them all the joy of being, finally, part of a real pack.

Finn basks in the warmth of his wolf’s happiness and asks for details about their new companions, and Brother gives them, happily. He has mostly been spending time with the pilots - he gives Finn a blazingly strong scent impression of the _oil-and-hot-metal-and-pitch_ scent of the hangar where the pilots tinker with their ships - and so Finn gets a long list of scent-names and wolf’s-eye images of the pilots Poe commands and their wolves, a blur of smells he doesn’t even know. And then Brother adds the scent-image of the leader of this pack, the queen-wolf _deep-forest-and-cold-stone_ and her sister _durasteel-and-linen_ , General Organa herself. Apparently General Organa gives really good ear-rubs. That’s...disconcerting.

Finn’s never been part of a pack that has a queen-wolf before. There are wolf-bitches in the First Order, of course - where else would they get wolves, after all - but they and their siblings aren’t allowed into space, aren’t part of the Stormtrooper ranks. They stay safe on the inner planets, and particularly favored Stormtroopers sometimes are allowed to bring their wolves to breed, to sire strong young pups for the First Order’s new cadets. (Cadets who do not bond do not become Stormtroopers. Finn doesn’t like to think about what _does_ happen to them.) But queen-wolves...Finn doesn’t know if there _are_ queens among the First Order’s wolves. They might be killed at birth. Actually, that would make a lot of sense. The First Order doesn’t want its wolves to be _pack_ , and queen-wolves are what bind packs together.

But the Resistance has Aldera, _deep-forest-and-cold-stone_ , running through its pack-sense like a river. Finn’s not even properly _part_ of the Resistance pack yet, is only feeling Aldera’s influence through Brother’s link to Cora, but it’s still nearly overwhelming. If this is what a queen-wolf feels like, then no _wonder_ the First Order doesn’t keep them. No one with a wolf like Aldera would ever bow to the stifling packlessness of the First Order’s troops.

Finn is still trying to parse the flooding memories of Brother’s days among the Resistance fighters when the door to his little room flies open and Poe and Cora and BB-8 come rushing in.

“Buddy,” Poe says, screeching to a halt next to Finn’s bed and grinning down at him, “welcome home.”

*

Poe is honestly startled by how fast Finn adjusts to some parts of living among the Resistance - and startled, also, by which things trip Finn up. Finn’s bond to Leafy seems to be enough to make Finn perfectly comfortable with the pilots and the other members of the Resistance who have befriended the enormous wolf, and Finn can find his way around the base without a single misstep using his wolfbrother’s memories. He spends hours every day with the intelligence and command staff, telling them everything they could ever have dreamed of wanting to know about the internal workings of the First Order. He keeps his side of the room Poe offered to share with him perfectly tidy. He relaxes into the bond of their tiny pack with perfect ease, seemingly basking in the ability to send Rey his adoration at any hour, to send Poe brief warm moments of joy and affection at all opportunities.

On the other hand, Finn is visibly baffled by the way wolf-bitches flirt, and the concept of heat leave. He gives all due respect to Aldera, but doesn’t seem to realize how unusual it is for a queen-wolf’s human sibling to be the undisputed leader of the humans around her, or to wonder where Aldera’s chosen mate and his brother might be. (Poe’s just as glad, really - explaining _that_ can of worms is not something he wants to do.) He’s invariably polite to everyone around him, but he doesn’t seem to know any of the small courtesies which are common to wolves; Poe has to teach him to offer his hand to a strange wolf, for instance.

It seems like the First Order has so comprehensively screwed up the relationship between wolves and humans that Finn’s little better off than a wolfless man in understanding the politics of the pack, and Poe is _not_ looking forward to the first time one of the other dog-wolves tries to challenge Leafy for dominance. Leafy is a good-natured and gentle wolf, or has been so far, but he’s also war-trained and enormous, and Poe does _not_ want the inevitable future confrontation to end in tragedy.

But in the meantime - in the meantime, Finn spends an astonishing number of his off-hours in Poe’s company, either listening eagerly to Poe’s stories, Cora flopped across his lap and Leafy curled around behind him while Poe fixes his X-Wing or tinkers with BB-8; or, if Poe is busy with paperwork, reaching out through the pack-sense to Rey. Poe rather likes the way that feels, actually, the way he is carried along with Finn as Finn reaches out across the galaxy to find Rey in Skywalker’s hermitage, the way Rey sends back affection and delight every time she feels Finn’s presence. Even if Poe is busy with his paperwork, it’s very nice to have that going on in the back of his head, the steady thrum of pack and affection like a warm blanket around his shoulders.

So - really, Poe’s pretty happy with the way this has worked out thus far. He’s got a pack-within-a-pack that suits him down to the ground, Cora adores her new packmates, human and wolf alike, and nothing is currently exploding, which, given that there’s a war on, is a sort of miracle.

It would be _better_ if Rey and Khamsin were back from Ahch-To, of course, if their whole tiny pack could curl up in a ball of fur and comfort together, but for now - for now, this is good.

*

Rey is getting very tired of Luke Skywalker and his steadfast refusal to aid the Resistance in their fight against the First Order or to train her in the Force. She suspects she’s learning more than she consciously knows from the dreams she shares with Finn, the ones in which the Force sings like an orchestra of stars or whirls about them like a sandstorm made of galaxies, but that’s not going to be enough, when she faces Kylo Ren again. She wants to know everything Skywalker can teach her, and he, frustratingly, refuses to teach her _anything_.

It’s gotten so bad that she spends her mornings letting Chewbacca teach her and Khamsin how to swim, and given how foul a wet Wookiee smells, that says a _lot_ about her level of frustration and boredom.

But there is this to console her: whenever she closes her eyes, Finn and Leafy and Poe and Cora are there, sending her all their love and adoration, and she can bask in it to her heart’s content.

It’s Cora who gives her the answer to getting Skywalker to listen to her - or rather, it’s the fact that Cora is a part, as Rey is not yet, of the pack led by _deep-forest-and-cold-stone_ , and Skywalker’s ancient and apathetic wolf, whose scent name, _wet-sand_ , it took Khamsin three days to learn - he used to be part of Aldera’s pack, too. He closed himself off from the pack-sense when his brother fled to this lonely place, but Aldera misses him, wants him back, and the desire of a queen-wolf is not something it is safe to disregard.

Aldera reaches out through Cora, from Cora to Khamsin, from Khamsin to _wet-sand_ , and says, in the wordless tongue of wolves, _Come home_ , and it is a command, a queen-wolf’s command, that it would take another queen-wolf to defy.

 _Wet-sand_ was strong, once, but age and long years with no pack to lean on have weakened him, and when his queen-wolf orders him home, well -

Skywalker looks bitter enough to spit, but he packs his few possessions and follows his wolfbrother onto the _Millennium Falcon_. What else can he do?

And Rey and Khamsin carol joy and triumph through their pack-sense to Finn and Poe and their gleeful wolves: they are coming home. At last, at last, they have hunted and they have caught their prey and they are coming home.

*

Finn waits eagerly on the tarmac for the _Falcon_ to land, Brother quivering beside him as Poe and Cora laugh at them - though it’s worth noting that Poe and Cora are both _also_ standing on the tarmac, waiting with bated breath for Rey and Khamsin to return. (Finn has decided that he kind of likes it that everyone else calls Brother ‘Leafy’ - Brother is _his_ brother, not anyone else’s, and it’s like the fact that Brother is the only one who calls Finn ‘Petrichor’: a name just for them, and no one else. Maybe, though, once their little pack is all together again, he’ll tell Rey and Poe and their wolves about those private names. He’d like to hear his heart’s name in his packmates’ mouths.)

Rey brings the ship in for a landing with grace and skill; Finn can feel how impressed Poe is through the pack-sense. As soon as the _Falcon_ is down, Rey and Khamsin come shooting down the ramp, running flat-out for their packmates, and Finn finds himself running to meet them, Brother at his side, Poe and Cora a scant pace behind him.

Finn catches Rey up in his arms as they meet, whirls her around delightedly, and when he puts her down Poe is there, wrapping his arms around both of them and pounding them gleefully on their backs, all of them radiating joy. Beside them, the three wolves are a tangled ball of black and beige and brindle fur, sniffing each other all over with such vigor that dainty Cora is nearly knocked over.

Finn finds himself surrounded in the sense of _pack_ , of joy and safety and _belonging_ , and it feels so good he has to sniff hard to stop himself from bursting into happy tears. It takes them all several minutes to get their composure back and stop clinging to each other - even then, Finn has Rey’s hand in his and one of Poe’s arms slung around his waist - and turn to see the _other_ reunion that is going on.

Skywalker is standing at the bottom of the _Falcon’s_ ramp, staring at General Organa, who is staring back. At her side, enormous grey Aldera is glowering at _wet-sand_ , whose spoken name Finn and his pack do not know; _wet-sand_ has his belly to the tarmac and is whining, a low miserable sound.

“...I don’t think this is really something we need to see,” Poe says at last, and Finn and Rey nod, and turn to follow him into the base. Finn and Poe have made space in their room for another bunk, because the idea of Rey _not_ rooming with them is just - unthinkable. She’s pack, and she belongs with them.

Having three bunks turns out to have been a bit redundant, though, because they spend the rest of that afternoon curled up on Poe’s bunk, with their wolves in a heap on the floor in front of them, basking in the pack-bond thrumming between them and telling each other stories about the years before they met.

And Finn, shyly, tells them about the heart-names he and his wolf use. Poe looks stunned; Rey looks delighted. Both of them shine with awe and joy, that he has told them such a private thing.

“Rain after a drought,” Rey says thoughtfully. “Petrichor. It’s a _good_ name for you. You brought me _pack_.”

“It _is_ a good name, for the man who brought us hope,” Poe agrees. “Petrichor. Our Petrichor.”

“Our Brother,” Rey adds, leaning over to rub Brother’s ears. Brother puts his enormous head in her lap and wolf-grins up at her.

And for a while, they are pack, three humans and three wolves together, bound as tightly as wolves can bind their siblings, and that is enough.


	4. Chapter 4

Skywalker still won’t teach Rey, no matter what General Organa says to him, so Rey makes her own lessons: she practices with a wooden sword against Finn, or anyone else who will spar with her - though it appears a lot of people are a little too intimidated to do so - and she learns to fly an X-Wing from Poe, though getting Khamsin into the cockpit is something of a hassle, and she spends hours sitting with Finn, hands clasped between them and eyes tight closed, listening to the sandstorm-song of the Force. It shows them many things, over those long afternoons, things Rey can’t quite believe and things she doesn’t _want_ to believe and things that fill her with so much wonder that she can’t speak for the glory of them. Sometimes she and Finn get lost there, deep in the sandstorm-song of the Force, and it’s only when Poe comes looking for them and tugs on the pack-bond between them that they remember they have _bodies_ and come drifting back into corporeality.

Rey knows there are things she’s _not_ learning, things Skywalker could teach her if he’d just get his head out of his ass, but she _is_ learning, she is getting better at controlling these strange new powers, and so is Finn. They can spar for hours now, wooden sword against wooden sword, block and strike and counter-strike until the air echoes with the blows; they can do things they could never have dreamed of, lift themselves and others with the Force, see farther and hear better and pass unseen, give unbreakable orders and speak across lightyears without using the pack-sense. It seems like every day they discover some new aspect of their powers, every day they grow stronger.

Which means she really shouldn’t be surprised when the galaxy throws another complication into their half-uncomplicated lives.

*

“So,” Poe says, rubbing the back of his neck, “this is - a little awkward. How much do either of you know about heats?”

Rey and Finn glance at each other. “Almost nothing,” Finn says after a moment. “Brother was never selected for breeding purposes.”

“I guess I should be grateful for that - the last thing we need is _more_ enormous, ridiculously clever wolves on our enemy’s side,” Poe says wryly.

Rey chuckles. “I heard - fights, sometimes,” she says. “But we weren’t part of the packs, so we didn’t - we didn’t interfere.”

“Of _course_ they still do heats the old-fashioned way on Jakku,” Poe sighs. “Well. We do things a little differently here. Actually I’m sort of surprised none of the other wolf-bitches have chosen Brother or Khamsin yet, but maybe Cora called dibs. It’s the sort of thing she _would_ do, the little mischief.” He grins down at his wolf, who lolls her tongue out as she grins back. Rey and Finn exchange another glance.

“Poe, please - we don’t understand,” Finn says quietly. “What’s going on?”

“So,” Poe says, trying very hard to get this to come out correctly, “every so often a wolf-bitch goes into heat. It used to be - still is, apparently, in the badlands like Jakku - that all the dogwolves in the pack would fight for the right to mount her. But that could - end badly. Wolves died. _Men_ died. It was - a mess.”

Rey nods solemnly. Finn winces.

“So these days, before a wolf-bitch goes into heat, she...chooses. Which wolf she wants to mount her. And she tells her brother or sister, so we can tell the _wolf’s_ brother or sister, and then everyone heads for a heat-room and there’s no - fuss.”

“That makes sense,” Rey agrees.

“So Cora’s chosen someone?” Finn adds, smiling down at Cora while he scritches his own Brother behind the ears. “D’you - need us to clear out for a while, or something?”

Poe scrubs a hand over his face. “Cora - would like to spend her heat with two wolves this time,” he says weakly. “Yours.”

Rey and Finn blink at him for a few minutes, and then turn their gazes to their wolves. Poe doesn’t even have to ask - the pack-sense is suddenly full of joy and anticipation coming from Brother and Khamsin alike, and the two enormous dogwolves turn to look at each other. There’s a long moment, and then Khamsin pounces, and Brother ducks, and the two wolves roll on the floor for a scant handful of seconds, not so much growling as _laughing_ , until Khamsin manages to pin Brother; and then they both get up and shakes themselves off and settle down on either side of Cora.

“Well,” Poe says, “I guess that - settles that part of it.”

“There’s another part?” Finn asks curiously.

Poe takes a deep breath. “When our wolves are - are having sex, we’ll be feeling their - desire,” he says haltingly. “It’s - _usual_ \- for the humans involved to - um - also have sex. While the wolves are.” He gulps at the identical expressions of astonishment on his packmates’ faces, and adds, “It - doesn’t have to _mean_ anything. It can just be - heat. Everyone understands about heat.”

There’s another long pause, and this time Poe is pretty sure that Rey and Finn are talking to each other with the Force, the way they do sometimes when they’re at opposite ends of the base but want to ask each other questions. At last Finn says, “And if we _wanted_ it to - mean something?”

“I would be _honored_ to have either or both of you as lovers,” Poe assures him immediately, and he means it. His packmates are bright and brave and beautiful, loyal and stubborn and clever, generous and joyful and dangerous - Poe would have cheerfully invited either of them to his bed if he hadn’t been pretty sure they were in love with each other. “Not just for heats, either - and not just because Cora thinks your wolves are the handsomest things on base.”

They laugh at that, which was what Poe was hoping for, and then Finn stretches a hand across the space between their bunks and says, “Come - come and kiss us, then? Please?”

Poe takes his hand and lets himself be pulled across the little space, half-tripping over the wolves draped unrepentantly over every inch of floor, until he’s tucked between Rey and Finn, surrounded by their warmth and the faint thrum of the Force, every bit of the pack-bond between them humming with joy, and he wraps his arms around them both and pulls them in.

The kiss is messy and clumsy and Rey likes to bite a little too hard and Finn bumps their noses together a little painfully and a three-way kiss is never going to be easy, but Poe wouldn’t have it any other way.

*

Finn’s a little apprehensive about this whole heat-leave thing, even with all the reassurances Poe has given him, even with the pack-bond full of the wolves’ eagerness, even with the helpful pamphlets Doctor Kalonia gave him when he went to her. Admittedly, Finn now knows rather more than he ever expected to _need_ to know about how both humans and wolves have sex - and it’s a good thing he does, because otherwise he would have been _very_ confused - but still. He doesn’t like not understanding things, he doesn’t like not being in _control_ of himself, and it sounds a lot like heat drives everyone involved just a little bit crazy. If Finn wakes up after all this is over and finds out that he or Brother has _hurt_ someone, he - he doesn’t know what he’ll do. But it won’t be pretty. And that _is_ a risk, the pamphlets all said so. Rare, and getting rarer, but still a risk.

But Poe is practically bouncing as they all head for the heat-leave rooms, Cora leading and the dogwolves on her heels and Poe and Finn and Rey, hands clasped, following their wolves. It’s been a week since Poe told them that Cora wanted _both_ of their wolves for her heat-mates, and that whole week Finn has been worrying the potential problems over and over in his mind. What if he hurts someone? What if he does something _wrong?_

Brother gives Finn a glance over his shoulder that clearly says, _Stop fretting, Petrichor_ , and Finn manages to grin. Okay, it’s not _likely_ that he’ll do something wrong. But still.

And then the door to the heat-room seals behind them and Poe turns around and cups Finn’s face in both hands and kisses him half-senseless. Cora yips amusement and delight. Rey laughs at both of them and crosses the room to the big bed which is the only furnishing besides a tiny refresher unit, stripping off her tunic as she goes. She sprawls out on the bed when she reaches it, and Finn realizes that he’s standing there staring, Poe just as stunned beside him. Rey stretches out her arms and says, “Well? Come here.”

Finn does, of course. He would follow Rey _anywhere_ \- onto a bed is hardly even worth mentioning. He half-tumbles into her arms and kisses her, tasting the chocolate she had for dessert and the faint tang of spices from the mess hall curry and under it all, faint but definite, water-in-the-desert, the feeling of her in the pack-sense rising to surround him. Behind him, Poe makes a faint soft sound of hunger, and Rey chuckles into Finn’s mouth. “We’re neglecting Poe,” she murmurs, and Finn kisses her one more time and then rolls away to lie beside her and grins up at Poe, who’s watching them with wide, dark, hungry eyes.

*

Rey isn’t quite sure what she’s doing - Khamsin is a warm presence in the back of her mind, filling her senses with _female-wolf-in-heat_ and _sun-warmed-stone_ and _bruised-leaves-and-blaster-fire_ all at once, and _he_ knows what he wants, even if Cora isn’t quite ready yet - but lying there with Finn pressed warm along her side and Poe looking at them like he’s never seen anything so lovely, she thinks that she’ll be able to figure this out.

Poe says, hoarsely, “We should - be naked, because once the wolves are ready, we really won’t have time to strip,” and Finn chuckles softly beside Rey and sits up to shuck out of his shirt. The line of his back is smooth and beautiful, marred only by the scar along his spine, and Rey reaches out to run a hand down it without thinking, smiling as Finn leans into the touch with a soft contented sound.

Poe laughs a little, and Rey turns to look at him and blinks in astonishment to find him already naked. Poe shrugs at her and tosses his clothing over his shoulder towards the door. “Not my first heat-leave,” he points out, and Rey decides that if _he_ isn’t shy about it, she shouldn’t be either, and takes the opportunity to look him over. Poe gives her a cocky grin and poses. He’s a very pretty man, Rey decides, all golden skin and dark hair and lovely eyes. He’s not _quite_ as broad in the shoulder as Finn is, more lithe than anything else - a pilot’s build, agile and quick - but Rey likes what she sees.

So does Finn, judging by the way he’s staring. Rey nudges him with an elbow. “C’mon,” she says, and rolls off the bed to shuck the rest of her own clothing, tossing it on top of Poe’s and turning to find both men staring at her wide-eyed. “What?”

“You’re _gorgeous_ ,” Poe says faintly. Finn nods agreement. Rey can feel her cheeks going warm, but she doesn’t duck her head or turn away. She’s never been called _gorgeous_ before. Strong, yes, agile, clever, quick-fingered, dangerous - all of those she claims easily. But gorgeous. She kind of likes it, likes the way it sounds in Poe’s mouth, the light in Finn’s eyes when he looks at her.

“Pants, Finn,” she says, after a moment, and Finn huffs a laugh and struggles out of his pants, sending them and his shirt floating over to the pile of clothing and holding out his hands to Rey and Poe, and they all tumble back onto the bed together.

The shock of skin-on-skin is like nothing Rey has ever felt before. They’re so _warm_ against her, warm like the sand at the end of the day when the sun’s gone down, warmer than blankets, and their skin is so smooth, nothing like Khamsin’s thick rough fur. The pack-bond flares between them with pleasure and joy, Finn’s curiosity that matches her own and Poe’s easy desire and Rey’s own sudden realization that this is _comfortable_ , this closeness, this skin-on-skin intimacy. Across the room, one of the wolves huffs amusement - Rey can’t tell which one, they’re all so closely twined in the pack-bond - and Poe chuckles, too, his breath warm and damp against her shoulder, and Rey turns in Finn’s arms and kisses the laughter from Poe’s lips because she can.

*

Poe can feel Cora getting closer to true heat with every moment, and though he wants nothing in the world _less_ than to stop kissing his - lovers? Heat-partners? Kriff, but they have to actually talk about this at some point - he pulls back just long enough to say, “Soon,” harsh and a little desperate but he’s never at his best during heat, no wolf-bitch’s brother is.

“Right,” Finn says, and leans over the side of the bed to fumble for the basket he saw there, full of bottles of slick and other things he doesn’t want to think about - bandages, splints, kriff, this could be _dangerous_ , he could hurt Poe, he could hurt _Rey_ , what if this goes as wrong as the old tales talk about, the ones the pilots tell, the ones where sometimes wolves die and sometimes people die and there’s as much blood as pleasure in the madness of heat.

“Stop _panicking_ ,” Poe says, pretty sure Finn didn’t mean to spill all of that out into the bond between them, and pulls Finn back onto the bed, on top of him, warm and heavy and perfect, Rey pressed up against their sides and kissing Poe’s neck and shoulder anywhere she can reach. “This is going to be - oh kriff - _fine_.” The last word trails off into a whine, because Cora has apparently finally decided that she is, in fact, ready to entertain her suitors, and her heat has abruptly gone from a simmering awareness in the back of Poe’s mind to an all-encompassing _need_. Above him, Finn and Rey both growl in perfect unison with their wolves, and Poe puts his head back to bare his neck in surrender and whimpers as Cora touches noses with Khamsin first, turns to greet Brother in his turn.

“ _Kriff_ ,” Rey whispers, shock echoing through the pack-bond as the heat-madness rolls over them. “This is - stars.” She pushes Finn to the side enough that she can kiss Poe, hard, teeth sinking into his lip as she pulls away and making him shiver and moan. “I never - I never knew.”

Poe would reassure her, if he had two brain cells to rub together, but Finn has just discovered the slick and there is a blunt, perfect finger rubbing circles around Poe’s entrance, and Cora is having _far_ too much fun flirting with Khamsin, who is playing along like a champion, and Poe can feel how wet Rey is where she’s got a leg slung over his hip and is rubbing against him half-desperately already. All Poe’s normal chatter and babble falls away into the heat-madness, and he spreads his legs wider and laces his fingers through Rey’s long hair and kisses her fiercely, glorying in the way she growls and bites at him in return.

*

Finn doesn’t know what he was expecting sex to be like, but this half-mad frenzy, all heat and teeth and moans, the way Poe whimpers when Finn bites at the line of his throat, the way Rey’s skin glows in the dim light of the heat-room - it’s not anything like he expected, but it’s good, it’s so good. Brother is waiting, patiently, for his turn, which means that Finn isn’t quite as lost in the heat-haze as Rey and Poe are, and _that_ means that he can actually take a moment to savor the way Poe opens around his fingers, blood-warm and terrifyingly tight, the way Rey arches against Poe and pins his shoulders to the bed and kisses him, all teeth and hunger.

And then, across the room, Cora finally stops flirting and moves to let Khamsin have her, and Poe makes a sound that’s half a gasp and half a scream as Rey swings a leg across his hips to straddle him and sinks down on his cock in one swift, smooth motion. Finn bites his own lip, hard, to keep from making a truly undignified noise at the sight, and watches as Rey braces herself on Poe’s shoulders - Poe doesn’t even bother _trying_ to struggle, his head back and his eyes closed and a thin, desperate whine rising from his throat - and starts to move.

Rey is beautiful like this - Rey is _always_ beautiful, but like this, sweat-sticky and snarling with heat-haze and hunger, fierce and loving and dangerous, she’s like some goddess out of ancient myth. And if she’s a goddess, then Poe is the sacrifice, helpless with heat-madness and desire, laid out beneath her and moaning in ecstasy every time she moves. Finn watches, motionless and stunned with sheer lust, for a long moment, and then leans forward to kiss the perfect line of Rey’s back, to run his hands down Poe’s heaving chest. Rey shivers. Poe whimpers. Finn smiles.

He’s not quite sure what he was so worried about, now. This is - this is the pack-bond, but stronger, fiercer, _better_. He knows how to deal with this.

*

Rey rolls off of Poe, body still thrumming with the aftershocks of orgasm, and sprawls out flat, panting, for a few minutes. Sex is _nothing_ like sparring, except in that it’s apparently _exhausting_ and also very satisfying.

And then Poe moans, deeper and _louder_ than the sounds she managed to wring from him, and she rolls over to see Finn kneeling between Poe’s legs and pushing slowly and inexorably into him. Poe’s hands are fisted in the sheets and he’s flushed from ears to mid-chest, and his breath is coming in harsh panting gasps that make Rey shiver with the sound, and they are _beautiful_ together. Rey can’t help reaching out to touch, and Poe frees one hand from the sheets and manages to grab her arm, pulling her closer, until she’s tucked up against his side with her face buried in his throat and his moans reverberating in her bones. Through the pack-bond she can feel Khamsin’s smug satiation and Brother’s eager lust and Cora’s enthusiastic desire for _male-wolfness_ and heat-madness, can feel Finn’s shocked pleasure and Poe’s half-mindless ecstasy and the way her own thrumming pleasure both soothes them and urges them on.

She opens her mouth against Poe’s skin and bites down, hard, on the curve of his shoulder, and revels in the way he shouts when he comes.

*

“So,” says Poe, rather hoarsely, when the heat-haze has faded enough that he can actually talk instead of just moaning helplessly.

“So,” Finn agrees, and holds a glass of water to Poe’s lips. Poe drinks eagerly. When the glass is empty, Finn moves away and Rey takes his place, holding up a ration bar. Poe eats, and drinks another glass of water, and then settles down in a nest of pillows, feeling sore and pleased and very tired. Cora, across the room, sends _male-wolfness_ and satisfaction through their bond. She’s curled up between Khamsin and Brother, both of them radiating satiation, and she gives Poe a look of extreme smugness before she drops her head to her paws and falls asleep.

The pack-bond thrums with pleasure and contentment. Poe reels his lovers in closer, wraps his arms around their waists and smiles at the ceiling as they settle in with their heads on his shoulders and their hands clasped on his chest.

“My pack,” he says fondly, and they both hum with pleasure. Rey kisses his shoulder; Finn leans up to kiss Poe’s lips.

“Pack,” Finn agrees, settling down again more comfortably.

“Pack,” Rey says, sounding drowsily satisfied, as though she has been given everything she ever wanted. “Keeping you. Sleep now.”

Poe laughs softly. “Sensible,” he agrees. “Sleep now, talk later.”

Finn sighs against Poe’s throat, breath warm and slightly tickly. “So sleep,” he says, and Poe laughs again into the dim, sex-scented echoes of the heat-room, and does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of this one, folks!
> 
> I'm going to be taking a few weeks' break for the holidays. I hope you all have fun and eat something delicious and stay warm as applicable.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Rudyard Kipling's poem "The Law of the Jungle."
> 
> This will update Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.
> 
> And I am, as ever, on tumblr as imaginarygolux - drop on by!


End file.
